Another Ordinary Night
by mentalagent13
Summary: Relaxing after a case takes on a new meaning, but what happens after has become normal. One-shot


**Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine… just checked.**

She sighed. She really hated these. She loved the team, would die for any of them, let alone kill (but that came easy for her). This used to be fun, going out with the team after a hard case. Now? Now, secretly, it scared her a little. The bars were always dark and smoky and they reminded her of Somalia.

She caught herself looking for one person in particular, but attempted to shake the uneasy feeling off. Making sure to laugh when appropriate, she hid how uncomfortable she was in the semi-dark room. The older Scotsman was concerned by her discomfort, yet chose not to comment. He knew better by now anyway.

She sipped her mojito (her only of the night) and stole a glance at the door. He hadn't exactly said that he was coming, but he also hadn't said he wasn't. Great, now she was getting annoyed by her reaction. The other two members of the team were too wrapped up in their own discussion to notice her.

A hand was placed on her shoulder and she had to resist the urge not to grab it and toss the owner across the room. It wasn't _his_ hand; she would have instantly recognized his touch. His touch was softer, and gentle. This touch was caring, but it was not the touch she was seeking. Now, she was irritated with herself for reacting in such an outlandish way. Why did she want him here so much?

She shifted her position again to give herself a better view of the door. She laughed at a joke, but was not actually unwinding at all. If anything, she was getting more worked up. A deep breath filled her lungs before she even realized she had taken it, all her attention had been focused on her colleagues.

He came into the bar and shivered a bit at the darkness. The smoke was the only thing he could smell and he wanted to turn on his heels and leave, but he knew better. He saw her before she saw him, in fact no one saw him enter (surprisingly).

He could read the tension in her shoulders and sensed her discomfort. Shaking himself, he mentally prepared for what he had to do. It was getting harder and harder to be there without actually touching her. He knew where her head was, whether she liked it or not.

Silently, he approached nodding at the bartender who already knew his order. He stood behind her and plastered his normal smile on his face. He marveled at the way she relaxed in his presence and he saw her begin to enjoy herself. He hid a real smile behind his drink.

By now, she was screaming at herself in her head. She should be used to her reaction to his presence, but in public she wanted to be able to control herself more. Finally, she admitted to herself that there was something about him that calmed her, as uncanny as it was. She wanted to place it, to figure out what it all meant, but the answer was always out of reach.

He didn't leave her side for the rest of the time they spent at the bar. He already knew where this night was going to lead. He half hoped for it to be a simple phone call, for her to be able to fall asleep just by hearing him talking, leaving him to hang the phone up once he heard her breathing even out. Something in the back of his mind told him that tonight was going to be worse. This place was getting to her (probably because it had taken him so long to get there). He said his goodbyes and turned to leave.

As he was leaving, he took the time to place his hand on the small of her back just long enough to let her know that she was welcome. No one else saw the gesture, or the look of understanding that passed between the two of them. His face aged and hers held a look of fear and remorse. Quickly, he smiled before he left giving her his silent reassurance of "it's ok".

Half an hour later, he was sitting on his couch in his pajamas (which consisted of only a pair of pants) when his door opened. He ignored it, choosing to pay attention to his movie. She stood in front of the screen and he sighed.

"On the bed," he told her.

She left him to the movie while she went to his bedroom to change. When she came out she was wearing one of his dress shirts and a pair of sweats that were definitely not hers. He had to tell himself over and over not to move as she snuggled into his side for the rest of the movie. The movement he made was to drape his arm over her, which caused her to snuggle closer; something he didn't think was possible. Yet, she would be the one that found a way to do it.

He had never actually gotten used to seeing her so vulnerable and scared. He knew that she didn't want to seem affected to the rest of the team. He remembered the first night that she had come to him. She had slept in his shirt that night and continued to do so every time she came over. Tonight was no different (although she was now borrowing other articles of clothing as he looked at the sweats).

The movie had been over for 10 minutes now and she hadn't moved. He knew she wasn't asleep, her breathing hadn't evened out. She was thinking about something. Suddenly, she flinched and whimpered and _that_ scared him a little. He gave her shoulder a slight squeeze and she shifted enough so that she could look at him. He smiled.

She liked the feel of him. As she snuggled back into his arms she felt safe. Her dreams weren't nearly as terrible when she stayed with him. They had talked about this arrangement, and when their boss had found out he had actually allowed it (as long as they kept him apprised if it progressed further). Her senses were being over crowded with sleep and she buried herself further into his side.

She yawned into his chest in an attempt to both hide and stifle it. He chuckled knowing that she was emotionally drained. He moved her arms from his chest to around his neck and carried her to his room. At first, she freely fought him, but he whispered to her that he was fine. Slowly, he put her down and settled himself onto the other side of his bed. Five minutes later, neither knew who had moved first. Neither could tell which side of the bed they were currently on, or if they had somehow met in the middle. All she knew was that his chest made an excellent pillow as his heartbeat lulled her to sleep. He knew that she was alive and here beside him by her choice. He also knew that if she moved another muscle he was going to have to wake her up just so she could see how she had wrapped her legs around his.

He relaxed when her breathing calmed, knowing instinctively that she would sleep through the night tonight. That was something that had not happened in a long while for her. He glanced at her sleepily and reveled in the warmth she provided. With his mind made up, he began to follow her lead and go to sleep. He knew that tomorrow he was going to have a serious conversation with their boss.


End file.
